


Acerba Sunt Bella Fratrum (bitter are the wars between brothers)

by unspeakable3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family Drama (Harry Potter), Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Epistolary, Explicit Language, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Letters, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Regulus Black, POV Sirius Black, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black-centric, Sirius Black-centric, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22160956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unspeakable3/pseuds/unspeakable3
Summary: A series of letters written between Regulus and Sirius Black that neither brother could ever bring themselves to send.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Black Family, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black & Black Family
Comments: 46
Kudos: 113
Collections: /r/FanFiction Prompt Challenge #16 / January 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Content Warning: contemplation/discussion of suicide [Ch.7]; explicit language)

Mother forced me to watch her remove you from the tapestry yesterday.

And as I stood there, as that ugly inaccurate portrait of you curled and burned, I thought about your stupid face and the stupid grin you would be wearing if you could have seen it happen.

In that moment I hated you even more than I hate her.

You have never understood the tapestry. You pride yourself on being like Andromeda but she understood it, at least, even if she chose to disregard it. Did you ever try to see it from my point of view? Do you ever try to see _anything_ from _anyone_ else’s point of view?

You’ve always been selfish, Sirius. I suppose that comes with being the eldest, with being the _heir_ , and being told how important you are right from birth. How very Gryffindor of you to throw that all away just so you can go frolic with your friends.

I suppose I never realised exactly how selfish you are, until now. Or perhaps I just didn’t want to admit that you could behave so selfishly towards your little brother.

Did you still consider me your brother, after you met Potter? How quickly did he replace me in your affections?

I would have chosen you, Sirius. Every time. I would have chosen you every damned time.

It’s not fair. You said yourself that Grimmauld was hell, but you still abandoned me to its cold walls and its colder occupants. You just sauntered away without so much as a backwards glance and left me to deal with the fallout.

Why couldn’t you wait just a little bit longer? Why do you always have to antagonise her, why couldn’t you just keep your head down and wait until you came of age? How could you leave me here alone?

You know that I’m not as brave as you, or as strong as you, or as self-assured as you. You know that I don’t have what it takes to satisfy them any more than you did - if it would ever be possible to satisfy parents such as ours. You know that you were always Mother’s favourite, despite everything. You know that she sees so much of herself in you. I can’t remember the last time she looked at me with anything other than mild disgust.

She cried when she found out you had gone. I’d never heard anything like it; a terrible, animalistic sound. The thought that I should comfort her crossed my mind before I remembered that she would tear me limb-from-limb like the harpy she is for daring to acknowledge that _you_ could make her feel anything but rage.

Aunt Cass told me about the day you were born, about the prophetic thunderstorm and how proud Mother was. How fiercely she vowed to protect you, her twice-Black son. Nobody seems to know anything about the day I was born. I’m surprised they even remembered the date.

Father just came by - to the top floor, to _our_ landing, if you can imagine such a thing - to place protective enchantments on your bedroom door. It took a long time, and they’re far too intricate for me to even attempt to unravel without drawing his attention.

He didn’t do your window, though. Or mine.

I just thought you might like to know in case you ever felt like coming home.


	2. Chapter 2

Mrs P said I ought to write to you but I don’t really know why or what I should say because it’s not like you ever cared about anything I had to say about Jimbo before but whatever.

The Potters are wicked. They live in Godric’s Hollow and you’d just hate it because there’s Gryffindor stuff EVERYWHERE. I thought I’d be bunking with Jimmy but they gave me my very own bedroom can you imagine? Mrs P took me to the MUGGLE SHOPS and I got some groovy new trews that will just BLOW YOUR MIND when you see them. You’ll do that thing where you think your face is as still as Father’s but you actually look like Granny Irma sucking a lemon. Godric you look so much like Granny Irma it’s embarrassing. You even have the same pathetic little wispy moustache. Nerd.

Mr P wrote to Dumbles when I got here to tell him that I’m not living at Grimmauld any more in case they send my Hogwarts letter there. He probs already knows though I bet PNB has never zoomed through his portrait so quick. Has dear old Mum blasted me off the tapestry yet? Did she make you watch like when she got rid of Romy? Did she go on one of those rants about how we need to remember how Pure and Noble and Bloody Bullshit we all are? YOU all are. I don’t count any more. I’M FREE!

You should try it Reg. When we go back to Hogwarts I’ll help you make some friends who aren’t horny for the Old Ways and don’t wank over their Pure and Ancient Blood and then you’ll see what it’s like to be normal and free and have fun. It’s great honestly. I’ve been fixing up my bike and I reckon I’ve almost cracked how to make it fly and Prongs lent me his old broom so we’ve been playing Quidditch a lot and I fell off into Mrs P’s flutterby bush and pretty much flattened it but she didn’t even shout! Can you IMAGINE what Grandfather would have done if I’d done that at Everleigh? I’d probably be dead or missing a limb at the very least.

Anyway yeah I’ll help you make some friends and then you can run away from Grimmauld next hols and go live with them. Rich friends like the Potters are preferable but knowing your luck you’ll fall in with some paupers and have to shack up with a hag in Knockturn. Good job you’ve got your big bro to keep you on track eh?

(I don’t know if you noticed but I don’t use commas any more. Commas are a social construct. Down with commas! Free your grammar from the shackles of societal norms! Be free Reg!)

Smell ya later.


	3. Chapter 3

Reg!

Uncle Alphard took me to see Romy today.

She’s got this little cottage out in the country and it’s about as far away from Grimmauld or Berkley as you can imagine. It’s all cosy with cushions and blankets and photographs and plates of biscuits everywhere and even the _walls_ seem warm. There’s a garden and a greenhouse and a pond and Romy reckons you would like to sit there and watch the fish but you'd probably just fall in and moan about it for a week.

Ted’s ace. He’s a bloody Hufflepuff! But he reckons he can get me some stuff for my bike off this guy down the pub he knows. Romy wasn’t happy about that (he calls her Dromeda but she doesn’t seem to mind) but she’ll soon see sense once I rock up there on my bike all cool like.

And her kid. Nymphadora. Dora for short. An actual real-life kid. A kid that’s allowed to run around and climb on the furniture and smear food all over her face and ask as many bloody questions as she wants. Can you imagine a Black kid allowed to act like an actual kid? I couldn’t until I saw it.

And guess what? Dora’s a _metamorphmagus_.

(Pick your jaw up off the floor Reg you goon)

How many centuries do you reckon there’s been since there was a Black metamorphmagus? The first half-blood kid in forever and she’s a bloody metamorphmagus! How’s that for proof that all the bullshit about keeping the bloodline pure is _wrong_?

I can’t see what amazing latent magical abilities _my_ loins throw up.

Tell Mother to suck on _that_.


	4. Chapter 4

Sirius,

I hope to Salazar that you spend Uncle Alphard’s money fast because Mother just found out and decimated half the house in her anger - she’s on her way to Orpington and Baileys as I write, determined to get the will reversed. Father says she doesn’t have that power, but you and I both learnt long ago to never underestimate Mother when it comes to family matters.

_———_

Well. It appears that Uncle Alphard was more formidable than he looked. Mother returned from Lincoln’s Inn, more furious than ever, and immediately summoned Father and I to the drawing-room. I’m sure you can guess what happened, but let me tell you that she was practically spitting fire in her rage and perhaps didn’t need to use her wand to scorch our uncle from the family tree.

I am glad that he left everything to you, brother. The family has no need of it, and while I’m sure the Potters have given you whatever you requested - even Mother can admit that they are wealthy, although they are decidedly _New Money_ \- I know that you do not like to feel that you are ‘kept’. I hope Alphard’s gift will give you the freedom you have always craved. I expect that is what he had hoped for, too.

(I got his horse though!)

I’m sorry that we do not speak at school any more. In truth, I cannot imagine how I might begin to heal this rift that has grown between us. I was angry, and embarrassed, and hurt; it _hurt_ , Sirius, when you chose Potter over me. It still hurts when I see you walking down the corridors, arms slung over each others’ shoulders, or jostling in the grounds, or teasing each other at dinner. It hurts that we never had the chance to have that kind of relationship, that you were always too busy being my protector to be my brother. It hurts, Sirius, but I don’t know what to do to fix it.

You were always better than me at fixing things. You were always just _better_.


	5. Chapter 5

I’m scared, Sirius.

At first, it was fine. Father took me to Grandfather’s and he actually called me by my name, not just ‘boy’, and it was nice. I felt acknowledged. And he said that I had to step up and act appropriately and make a name for myself, and that was fine. I’ve always tried to be appropriate. I’ve always tried to give people a reason to remember my name.

They talked about how the Ministry is useless and bogged down in too much administration and bureaucracy, how our society is being diluted and degraded by muggle influence and I believed them, Sirius. How could I not? They are constantly in and out of the Ministry, they _know_ people, how could I not believe what they were saying about the state of our politics?

And then this Ravenclaw kept trying to get everyone to use these muggle writing devices. He said that parchment and quills were _archaic_ and _relics of the past_ but isn’t that what’s so charming about such things? Is it not important to keep a tight hold of our traditions, lest we lose them? He was talking about machines that cook and clean, about how we ought to get rid of house-elves because keeping them was _barbaric_ and _slavery_ but he was so wrong - he didn’t understand! He kept shouting when Evan tried to explain, he’d never even bothered to meet a house-elf let alone ask it about its magic and its own traditions and it was just awful, Sirius. I’m sure even you would have understood our side of the argument. Even you would understand that the truly _barbaric_ thing would be to cast dear Kreacher out onto the streets and replace him with a _machine_.

Bella told me to stop moping. She told me to get a grip of myself and step up to my new role as heir (why, Sirius, _why_ did you leave me? I can’t do this! I can’t do any of it!) and she was terrifying. Cissa told me how Lucius had joined this _little society_ that aimed to _promote pureblood values_ and invited me to a meeting.

Truly, Sirius, my blood is running cold as I recall these events. How naive I was to believe them, to trust them!

Uncle Cygnus told me how proud he was that I was _making a stand_ and acting _for the good of the family_. Grandfather Arcturus seemed pleased. Mother called me _darling Regulus_. Father seemed… well, you know how Father is.

Evan began joining me at these _little meetings_. We learnt how muggle-borns were clawing their way into our society, how they were striving to tear us down from the inside, to remove all our great traditions and rituals and replace them with bland and inferior ones of their own. We learnt self-defence - how to protect ourselves should a muggle attack, how to skirt around the illegalities of muggle-baiting, what we could do to help before we came of age.

And then Bellatrix took me under her wing. Her _pet project_ , she said. She said she wanted to toughen me up, to ready me for the big bad world outside of Hogwarts. She taught me dreadful hexes and jinxes. She taught me the Unforgivables, Sirius. She had Evan and I cast Crucio on each other until we lay weeping and convulsing on the floor, unable to continue.

I took his Mark, Sirius. I felt like I had no choice. One doesn’t just _leave_ his ranks. Lucius told me it was like joining a brotherhood but I had a brother, once, and never did you act like they do.

I tried to remove it. It’s not possible.

I’m scared, Sirius. We are expected to meet him again tomorrow - Evan and Severus and Augustus and Clarence and I - and he will set us a task and we will be expected to complete it. Half of our group are of age. I don’t suppose he will expect me to cast a spell and risk attracting law enforcement but the others… I will still be there. I will still bear witness to what they are asked to do. I will still stand by and watch while innocents are hurt.

I don’t know what to do, brother. This isn’t what I want my life to become. This isn’t who I want to be. I wish I were as brave as you. I wish… I wish.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin’s hairy arsehole Reg you’re gonna be so proud of me.

I’ve done something sensible. Something MATURE. Something that will benefit me in the future and not just right now.

(That’s what Mr P said. He’s smart. Maybe even smarter than you.)

I’ve bought a fucking flat Reg!

I took Alphard’s money (legend) and put on a shirt all smart-like and bought a fucking flat. It’s on the top floor obviously so I can climb onto the roof and the bird next door works in a tattoo shop A TATTOO SHOP and I reckon I can get her to tattoo me for free if I put on the ol’ charm. There’s a kebab shop downstairs and

God Reg I bet you’ve never had a kebab before have you? Ask Kreacher for one I dare you.

Reg. Reg Reggie Reggicles. I’m gonna get you out of that hell hole. Once I’ve got furniture and painted the walls and that I’m gonna come and get you and you’re gonna live here with me and it’s gonna be great. Fuck Mum fuck Dad fuck the lot of ‘em. Just me and you kiddo.

It’s not all fancy like Grimmauld. There aren’t snakes everywhere and it isn’t all dark and creepy and there aren’t portraits whispering about you but I think you’ll like it. We can eat whatever we want and stay up as late as we like and make as much noise as we can. Well I’ll make the noise you can just sit on the sofa all prim and scowl at me. It’ll be great Reg!

Mr P’s been showing me how to do protective enchantments and that. I reckon we’ll do a good enough job to keep the Blacks out. Romy’s helping too. They won’t be able to get you here Reg. They won’t be able to hurt either of us any more.

The lads reckon you won’t come. Prongs says you’re too bludger-brained and Wormtail agreed with him obviously and Moony did that thing where his eyebrows go weird and he looks at you like you’re something pitiable. But you will come. I know you will Reg. You’ll be scared at first (I was) but you’ll do it because you know it’s for the best.

There’s nothing for you there Reg. I told you the night I left. They don’t care about YOU. They don’t care about the things that you like and the things that you feel. I do. I know we fight and I know it’s difficult at school and I know we’re not talking right now but that’s because of them don’t you see? It’s because Mother’s terrified you into thinking you can’t be seen with me and don’t you see how fucking WRONG that is?

I’m your brother Reg. I’m gonna look after you.

Someone bloody needs to don’t they eh?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: contemplation/discussion of suicide.

I can’t believe you, Sirius. I can’t believe you would be so utterly, ridiculously, foolish.

You can’t just stroll up to me in the middle of the courtyard with half the school watching and just start talking to me! You can’t just raise your voice when I start to walk away! You can’t just shout and rant and yell at me, you can’t just pretend that you know what’s best for me when you left me, when you _abandoned_ me. You haven’t known what’s best for me for _years_ , Sirius.

You’re just like Mother.

You’re selfish. You’re arrogant. You think you can just pull me out of this tangled mess, and to hell with the consequences? You’re wrong, Sirius. I’ve made my choices and now I have to live with them, or die with them.

Because I cannot turn back from this, Sirius. No one can turn back from this. He does not forget and he does not forgive.

And you don’t know the half of it - if you knew, truly, what I had done… I am terrible, wretched. Worse than those you despise. Worse than Lucius and Bellatrix and Rodolphus because at least they believe in the Cause. At least they believe in Purity and the Old Ways and I just… I’m just weak, Sirius. I’m pathetic.

People are watching, everywhere. Home isn’t safe, has never been safe. School isn’t safe, either; the Headmaster doesn’t care. He’s given up on us. Thinks us a lost cause.

There are so many of us, Sirius. More, I expect, than I am aware of, keeping their identities secret. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know who I can turn to, confide in, express my fears too. Every single one of them could go behind my back and whisper my secrets to the Dark Lord. Every one of them could bring about my death. Even my so-called friends.

I lie awake at night, Evan in the bed to my right and Finn to my left, and think about what it would be like if I just… stopped. It would be so easy to slip into Slughorn’s stores and take a jar of hemlock, to brew any common poison in an abandoned classroom, to conjure a rope with which to hang, to throw myself from any window of any tower, to walk unarmed in the Forest at night, to slip from my broom, to pile rocks into my robes and submerge myself in the lake…

It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?

Will you miss me, Sirius? Will you miss me when I am gone?

I imagine you will be angry. I imagine you will blame yourself, and perhaps you would be right to do so. I imagine you will scream and try to do something stupid before one of your friends takes your wand and attempts to comfort you. Do they comfort you, Sirius, when you feel like your head might burst? It must be nice, to have friends like that.

The last person who comforted me was you. 

Do you ever regret leaving me behind, Sirius? Will you regret it when I am gone?


	8. Chapter 8

I’m worried about you, kid.

I’ve seen you hanging around with those fanatical twats. Prongs reckons you’re in with them but I can’t bring myself to believe it. My baby brother, one of them? Please tell me it’s not true, Reg.

Because if it is, if you _have_ joined You-Know-Who and his You-Know-Whats… it’s my fault, isn’t it? I left you there, with them. You’ve always been soft and I’ve tried to stand up for you and show you that it doesn’t have to be like how they say it is, but then I left and you had no one and fuck, Reg, I’m so sorry. I fucked it all up.

I know you won’t listen to me and I know you won’t leave them, but please, Reg, let me help you. I know I’ve fucked up but I can help you now. I’m in with Dumbledore’s lot and we’ve got people, we’ve got resources, we can help you.

Please, Reg. You’re not alone. Let me help you. Please.


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius

There’s something

I’m not sure

It’s

Sirius, it’s incomprehensible. I can’t

But it must be true. All his talk, I thought it was blustering, posturing, but now

Nobody else seems to know. Or if they do, they’re too scared (intimidated? awed?) to do anything about it. Which means that I must

Sirius. I wish we

I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do

I’m trying to be strong and I’m trying to breathe and I’m trying to stop my heart from exploding out of my chest and I’m trying to think what you would do, Sirius, what would you do in a situation like this, would you

I can’t tell anyone, because he’ll find out and then

It will have to be me, won’t it? I’ll have to be the one to

Fuck, Sirius. Fuck fuck fuck. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can

— — —

I’ve broken into your room, Sirius. The enchantments that Father cast after you left have faded and withered since his passing, and Mother hasn’t bothered (or hasn’t remembered) to recast them. I’ve broken into your room and I’ve taken one of your jumpers. Miraculously, it still smells like your cigarettes. I’ve taken them, too, the ones that you left beneath the loose slate on the rooftop. There were five left in the packet. There’s only one, now; I’ve been smoking one whenever I’ve particularly missed you. But this last one… this last one I will take with me.

Kreacher is ready. The fake is ready. I’ve written a note - you would love it, Sirius, you would throw your head back and roar with laughter and kick your feet. It’s deliciously petty. I wish I could show you.

I’m wearing your jumper and I’ve polished my shoes. You would laugh at that, too. _What’re you doing that for Reg, you twat? The dead don’t care how neatly you’re dressed._ It just seems like the right thing to do. I’ve combed my hair, as well, although I suppose that won’t stay neat for long.

I’m ready.

I don’t expect you will ever know what I have done, and I’ve made my peace with that. I’m not sure how long it will take people to realise that I’ve gone (nobody ever seems to pay me much attention, even now) and I’m not sure what the consensus will be - I’m not sure what you will believe, Sirius.

But I hope you remember the better parts of me, Sirius, whenever you think of me. I hope you remember your little brother, the one who looked up to you, the one who adored you.

And I hope that my actions this night will help you, and your cause. I’m not brave enough to join you openly, but I hope that what I do will be enough to turn the tide of this war to your favour.

Good luck, Sirius. Good luck, my brother.


	10. Chapter 10

You idiot. You stupid bloody idiot.

What did you have to go and get yourself killed for? I told you. I TOLD YOU I could help you! I told you we had people, we had places. I told you I could have gotten you out of there and I told you I could have kept you safe. Why couldn’t you just LISTEN TO ME for once in your bloody life?

For fuck’s sake, Reg.

All I can think of is your stupid round eyes and how scared you must have been. Remember when it would thunder, and you would get scared and hide under your bed? And I would sneak across the landing and come and find you and we would lie there together until it stopped? And you would squeeze my hand with your stupid long fingers so tightly I thought they would break? And how it got kind of ridiculous when we got bigger because our feet and elbows would poke out but we did it anyway?

I’m sorry I made you think that you couldn’t come to me when you were scared any more.

I hope it didn’t hurt, Reg. I hope it was over quickly.

Remember when Mother would get mad? Remember when it would hurt, and you would fix me? I wish I could fix you but I don’t even know where you fucking ARE. What the fuck did they do to you? What the FUCK, Reg?

You were always the best of us. You had Bella’s tenacity, Romy’s perception, Cissa’s gentleness. And we always underestimated you, didn’t we? Baby Reg. And look where we’ve ended up.

Mother’ll go to hell for this. Look what she’s done to her precious family. Look what’s happened to the five of us, because of her bullshit: two Death Eaters, two runaways, and you… what the fuck happened to you?

I miss you, Reg. I miss your frowns and your sighs. I miss the way you couldn’t stop blinking whenever you were nervous or embarrassed, and the way you pursed your lips whenever I annoyed you (all the time, I’m so sorry). I miss watching you fly - you were so good at flying. You seemed so happy up in the air, like you didn’t care that your hair was all ruffled and your robes were all askew. Did you get to fly after you left school? I hope you did. I hope you were happy, at least some of the time.

I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you. I’m sorry I left you there. I’m sorry for all the times you felt scared, and alone, and helpless.

I was the worst big brother in the world, but you were the best little brother anyone could ever ask for. Muggles write that kind of thing on mugs, y’know? WORLD’S BEST BROTHER. I should have bought you one. I should have bought you all of them. I’m so sorry, Reg.

I’ll kill them for this. All of them. Every last fucking one of those fucking masked cunts.


End file.
